


Handsome Devil

by The_secret_fangirl



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - Boarding School, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Dissociation, Homophobia, M/M, Tags May Change, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-12-27
Packaged: 2020-07-28 21:17:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20070730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_secret_fangirl/pseuds/The_secret_fangirl
Summary: Crowley hates his boarding school where he is constantly bullied. But now there's a mysterious new boy at school-a rugby player who just happens to be his new roommate.Inspired by the film Handsome Devil (2017) but the plot spirals out of control.





	1. White curls

Crowley looked through the window while trying to ignore his step-mother's chattering. He couldn't wait for the car ride to be over but was dreading the destination even more. He had gone to this hellish boarding school for 3 years now and knew the pupils well. He knew their fists even better.  
The car stopped and Crowley slithered out of his seat. His father shoved his trunk into his hands and patted him on the back so hard it hurt. Soon the car made a U-turn and disappeared behind the trees.  
Crowley turned around and looked at the grey building and shivered. He took his dark glasses, the ones his father hated, out of his pocket and put them on his nose. His guitar bag swung behind him as he made his way towards the door. You could spot Crowley from a mile away because of his distinctive walk. His classmates loved reminding him how feminine the way his hips swayed from side to side was.  
When he opened the door he was hit with the sound of dozens of schoolboys running, shouting and laughing. Crowley made his way towards the notice board. A wicked grin appeared on his face as he noticed that he didn't have to share a room with any of the idiotic boys in this school. Not all of them were mean and some of them might have even been his friends-if he wasn't on Gabriel's shitlist. If you were friendly to someone who was bullied, they would bully you. So they all avoided him like the plague.  
School started the next morning. When Crowley walked through the classroom door Gabriel and his gang stared and laughed, whispering amongst themselves. Gabriel's friends were all in the rugby team. Crowley didn't give a damn about the sport. Before Gabriel could open his mouth their new teacher walked in.  
"Hello. I'm Mr Raziel, your English teacher." The man seemed intimidating. He had dark hair like Crowley but without the fiery red. And he hadn't spent almost an hour that morning trying to make his hair look good. Mr Raziel's hair resembled a bird's nest. He stared at the boys for a second before he continued speaking. Crowley could think of at least a thousand different, more beneficial, ways he could be spending his time right now. Like sleeping.  
When he was finally allowed to retreat back to his room after the last class of that day had ended, Crowley couldn't be happier. He opened his door and froze. There was a boy in his room. On the floor. Doing a push-up. The boy looked up at Crowley. His blue eyes were wide and his jaw was threatening to hit the floor. His white curly hair framed his rapidly reddening face.  
"Ngk", Crowley said and slammed the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked this.  
Give me suggestions in the comments if you want-it's all a bit up in the air at this point.


	2. Make the most out of it

Crowley was nearly running down the stairs. He finally found the right door and waited a moment to steady his breathing. Crowley knocked.  
"Come in", a nervous voice said behind the door. The door creaked loudly as it opened. The metallic plaque that said 'Headmaster Newton Pulsifer' shined with pride.  
"I can't share a room with a guy like him."  
"Wh-what do you mean?" Pulsifer asked. The man was very used to Crowley bursting in to complain about this or that. He had started to carve out space every Monday evening for the angsty teen.  
"He's the newest member of the rugby team, isn't he?" Crowley asked with a frustrated sigh. He mumbled something about push-ups before he demanded that the boy would be moved elsewhere.  
"I really think it would do you some good to be friends with a boy like Mr Fell," Pulsifer tried to stay calm. "The decision has been made, make the most out of it."

* * *

When Crowley got back he pushed the door open very delicately. 'Mr Fell' sat on his bed fidgeting. There were mountains of books on the floor, a little bag of sweets carelessly thrown on the bedside table and _way_ too many pillows on his bed. It was chaotic and every shade of beige imaginable. Crowley could feel the annoyance building in him.  
"Um, hi... I'm Aziraphale," the boy had finally noticed him.  
Crowley extended his hand and introduced himself. Aziraphale was clearly trying to think of something to say. His eyes scanned Crowley's side of the room, trying to find inspiration. His eyes stopped briefly on the shirtless pictures of Freddie Mercury and the shorter boy blushed.  
Crowley went to lie on his bed and looked the boy in the eyes. Aziraphale escaped to the bathroom.

* * *

That's how it was for the next three weeks. The two didn't speak to each other if it wasn't necessary.  
The Silence lasted until one faithful English lesson. Mr Raziel held _Paradise Lost_ in his hand and was telling them about their new assignment.  
"I'll divide you into pairs-" He heard the loud cry of despair from the pupils and laughed. "I expect you all to work well with whoever I pair you up with, or you'll fail this class."  
Crowley was doomed. He could feel the next words coming out of Mr Raziel's mouth before he said them.  
"Crowley and Aziraphale are group number 1."  
Before he could stop himself Crowley turned to his right and saw the nervous smile on his roommate's lips. _Right. The deadline is two weeks away. I can do this_, Crowley thought to himself.

* * *

That evening Crowley decided to move Aziaphale's books into neater piles because he honestly couldn't stand the state of the place. He had just finished, humming to himself happily, when Aziraphale walked in. Crowley turned around so fast his right hand hit a pile of books and like dominos, the book piles fell to the ground with a great thud. Aziraphale looked like he'd just seen a ghost and Crowley was afraid he might start crying.  
The second thing Crowley observed about Aziraphale was that he was only wearing a towel. He tried to make his eyes stay above Aziraphale's shoulders, but he couldn't help but notice his muscular chest.  
"I forgot my spare clothes here," Aziraphale mumbled, walked to his closet and picked some clothes randomly.  
Crowley began his work again, this time with more haste, as Aziraphale went into the bathroom.  
"So, do you want to start working on the project today?" Aziraphale asked, suddenly appearing right next to Crowley. Shifting to sit on the cream-coloured duvet, Crowley nodded. The two discussed who would do what and started preparing the presentation.  
"Aziraphale-"  
"You can just call me Azi." Aziraphale hurries to say, "if you want, I mean."  
"You can't choose your own nickname," Crowley drawls. "I'll figure out a better one for you." Crowley seems to contemplate this for a second, but he gives up and continues.  
"As I was saying, seems a bit unnecessary, creating an apple tree just to say that the humans can't eat from it," Crowley remarks while he flips through _Paradise Lost_ looking for a specific passage. "It's almost like God is trying to temp them."  
"Crowley!" Aziraphale scolds him, the tips of his mouth going southwards. "Don't you believe in God?"  
"I believe he's a wanker, alright," Crowley smirks, purposely trying to irritate the good-natured boy sitting next to him on the bed.  
"I went to church every Sunday when I was younger," Aziraphale says quietly. "I don't think the men in charge of the church have it exactly right. But She's not like that."  
Crowley recognises a painful subject when he sees one and decides to change the subject. He attempts to ignore the uncomfortable feeling in his stomach when he looks at the pained expression on his roommate's face.  
"You could try to be a bit more... organizzzed," Crowley hisses.  
"Oh, sorry," Aziraphale blushes. "I'll certainly try." He looks almost shameful.  
"You're so courteous I could just call you an angel," Crowley says without thinking.  
"Really?" Aziraphale asks. "I get so anxious thinking I'll offend someone."  
"I'm not sure it's actually possible for you to do evil," Crowley says, assessing his companion.  
"Oh, I do hope so." Aziraphale's smile shined brighter than the sun.  
Crowley looked at the time on his phone and jumped from the bed.  
"I have to go, I'll see you later, angel."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reading, kudos and comments are all appreciated.


	3. Sweet

Crowley had always thought he was a bit too much of an optimist. Like right now when he couldn't stop himself from imagining what it would be like if Aziraphale became his friend. He thought about Aziraphale going stargazing with him. And Aziraphale holding his hand. And Aziraphale telling him how amazing he is. Completely platonically. It was like a friend crush. A frush, if you will.  
And sometimes he was so detached from reality Crowley thought he could feel Aziraphale's gaze on him when his roommate was clearly wrapped up in his latest book. If Crowley actually paid attention, he would've noticed that sometimes Aziraphale seemed to be reading the same page for 5 minutes.  
"Oh no, my snacks are running out," Aziraphale wailed. "And I can't even go to the store any time soon!"  
"Just buy your precious snacks next Saturday when we're going to the rugby game," Crowley huffed. Sometimes he felt like the only person with any brain cells in this entire building.  
"But you see, Crowley, I have to focus on the game." Crowley was certain Aziraphale's puppy eyes would be the death of him.  
"I guess I could buy something for you." There was that smile again. Dammit.  
Saturday was the rainiest day in weeks. When Crowley made his way to the nearest shop, the constant downpour seemed to be dying down. Crowley was faced with so many options he didn't know what to pick. He had seen his roommate munch on many delicacies from around the world. Eventually, he decided on fancy chocolates and a strange Danish pastry.  
Crowley was walking towards the train station when he heard someone call his name. Aziraphale was carrying a heavy rugby bag and his face was flushed from the running. Crowley felt the corner of his mouth twitch upwards. The rain had morphed into a drizzle, but Aziraphale was still sniffling as they made their way through the dark streets.  
"You can take my jacket," Crowley mumbled.  
"What?"  
"I said; take my jacket."  
"Oh, thank you."  
Crowley's black leather jacket was surprisingly warm. Aziraphale had indeed noticed that whenever their fingers accidentally touched, Crowley's hands felt freezing cold. Not that Aziraphale usually paid that much attention to those random moments.  
When they could see the train station at the end of the street, Crowley turned to Aziraphale and lifted his right eyebrow expectantly. Aziraphale gave the jacket back to him without daring to look anywhere near Crowley's light brown eyes.  
"Maybe I should go first," Aziraphale said. "You can follow me after a few moments."  
"Right," Crowley cleared his throat. "Don't want anyone to get the wrong impression." Aziraphale took a few steps, turned back around and said:  
"I like being your friend, Crowley, I like it a lot."  
Crowley stood there, in the rain, baffled by the sudden confession. He thought about those words the whole train ride back to the school.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> School started and now I'm back. I wrote this today in a bit of a hurry to get the words out, so I'm sure there are some mistakes. I hope you guys like it!


	4. Undercover

Contrary to what some people might think, Crowley took his education seriously. He was naturally talented in many fields and knew how to get what he wanted in others. He was initially glad to find out that Aziraphale shared his mentality about school. Now, a day before a physics exam, he was getting apprehensive. Aziraphale was frantically reading his textbook, huffing now and then. Crowley knew he got virtually perfect marks and was mystified to find the other so distressed. Aziraphale reminded him of a cat shouting for more food right next to a bowl full of it. So he decided to offer his help.  
Aziraphale showed him the passages he couldn't comprehend. He was instantly captivated by Crowley's elaborate way of explaining things. Crowley's hands swung around the air in front of him as he got more enthusiastic. He slightly veered away from the subject and got into detail about stars, nebulae and galaxies. Finally seeming to realize this, Crowley stopped talking, still grinning and face flushed.  
"Thank you, dear," Aziraphale said. He had completely forgotten his worries while caught up in the electric energy that Crowley emitted.  
"Do you wanna see something?" Crowley rose from his seat and now stood expectantly by the door on the other side of the room.  
"I-, Yes," Aziraphale eyed him suspiciously but felt the thrill of anticipation in his stomach.  
Crowley led them to the highest floor and walked to a door. Aziraphale watched in amazement as Crowley fumbled with the lock. He really should stop him from breaking the rules but couldn't find it in himself to do anything else than merely mumble a feeble objection. The room looked very different from the austere interior design that you could see in the rest of the building. Art and words depicting teenage angst covered the walls. Judging by his roommate's inclination towards music, instead of visual arts, and the countless handwriting styles before his eyes, Aziraphale guessed that Crowley had not been the first one to make this place his sanctuary. The boy in question was now staring at him, trying his damnedest to look nonchalant.  
Crowley opened the small dirty window next to him and hopped onto the roof. Crowley pulled him up and Aziraphale tumbled on top of him. Aziraphale quickly sat up and brushed non-existent dirt off of his fluffy sweater. The sun was setting sooner and sooner every day and was already gone by this time. Following Crowley's example, Aziraphale leaned back and looked at the night sky.  
"That one's my favourite," Crowley whispered like he was afraid of disturbing the magnificent sight before them. Aziraphale shifted closer to him and his eyes followed Crowley's pointed finger towards one of the bright stars. He hummed and was certain that he could never look at the stars again without remembering this moment. The stress they both constantly had in the back of their minds faded away completely in a rare and magical moment. In the end, it was Crowley who reluctantly shook his head from its daze.  
"Let's go, angel." Aziraphale smiled softly, and Crowley felt like he might explode.

The amount of school work they had to complete steadily increased as teachers were desperately trying to catch up with their schedules before the holidays. Aziraphale would've snapped under the pressure if it wasn't for Crowley. Even with the amenities of having a smart roommate, Aziraphale was tired.  
Crowley hung his head over the edge of Aziraphale's bed and lifted his legs towards the sky, placing them against the wall. Their study sessions had become a nightly routine. They were also useless now that Aziraphale could barely keep his eyes open.  
'_Nothing disastrous will happen if I close my eyes for just a second_,' Aziraphale thought. Of course, he was wrong. He was fast asleep in under a minute.


	5. Best time of the year

It took a while for Crowley to notice that Aziraphale had dozed off. Once he did, he realized that he was at a crossroads. He could withdraw from Aziraphale while trying not to wake him up and go to his bed, or he could sleep like this. Well, not exactly like this, because hanging upside down for the night would probably be bad for his body. Crowley was tempted to wrap his arms around Aziraphale and worry about the consequences later. That was his style when confronted with a problem.  
Aziraphale shifted in his sleep and laid his hand on Crowley's torso. Crowley rotated his body 90 degrees and laid his head on Aziraphale's pillow. It was covered by a tartan pillowcase and far softer than his own. He drew Aziraphale with him and the boy placed his head on his chest. Crowley's heart soared, and he felt like he was flying over a calm lake at midnight. It was completely new and so much better than he could've ever imagined. It was addictive. Crowley turned his nose up at anything romantic, but in the back of his mind, this was what he craved. Not to mention the adorable person in his arms. Crowley looked back on the past few months with fondness. Probably the happiest time in his life yet. It was always just him and Aziraphale, alone in their room or their hiding place upstairs. Crowley rarely interacted with the other boys in the school, but Aziraphale went to rugby practice and hung out with them occasionally.  
It was early morning when Crowley's racing thoughts came to a stop. Only a couple hours later, Aziraphale blinked his eyes open and glanced upwards at the warm body next to him. Crowley was surprisingly comfortable to lie on and wrap yourself around, even while wearing coarse jeans. When his mind wasn't so sluggish anymore, Aziraphale's eyes widened, and he sucked in a quick breath. This was unexpected. Crowley's long eyelashes fluttered, but he didn't wake up yet. His gorgeous face was illuminated by the early morning sun. Butterflies flew in Aziraphale's stomach in a way that had become familiar during his time at this school. Crowley's eyes opened, and Aziraphale was suddenly very interested in the pile of textbooks on their floor.  
Crowley hummed as he arched his back and stretched.  
"Did you sleep well?" Aziraphale asked hesitantly.  
"Yeah, like a baby," Crowley said wryly. His ears were beginning to burn a shade of red not unlike the tips of his hair.  
"Should we, erm, get ready for school?" Crowley coughed into his other hand that wasn't resting on Aziraphale's back. Like a lightning bolt had struck him, Aziraphale jumped over Crowley to get to his feet and started packing his backpack. Momentarily stunned, Crowley lay on the bed for a second. He then went on with his morning routine as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

Crowley and Aziraphale went home for the holidays. The sudden change to a quiet and stagnant environment miffed them both. They didn't have any way to communicate with each other while apart. This might be, they both thought, for the best. They had become attached to each other, and a chance to cool off might be for the best.  
Spending time with their families was like being hit in the face with a splash of ice-cold water. Aziraphale's parents asked about his boarding school for hours. For the first time, Aziraphale was glad his parents were more interested in his academic success than his social life. The few questions about his peers were quickly brushed off. Aziraphale didn't want to tell his family about Crowley. It felt dangerous, and he had to hide his shaking hands under the dinner table. He reminded himself that they were just friends, but that didn't brighten up his mood.

Crowley was not having fun. His father was trying way too hard and in all the wrong ways. As if he had just read an excessive amount of parenting books, they went on hiking trips and tried to fix machines that were way beyond the point of saving. He tried to play his guitar on more than one occasion but couldn't concentrate on anything. His mind was buzzing with no clear agenda as it sometimes did.  
The New Year's Eve party went on around him as he stared into the fake fireplace. A few glasses of god knows what were pushed into his hands earlier that evening, and the alcohol was slowly starting to affect him.  
"How's my little cousin?" the sofa dipped as a man in his twenties sat next to him. "Got into any more trouble recently?"  
"Nothing big," Crowley cleared his throat and shifted a bit to the side.  
"I could tell you what I did in school if you need any inspiration," the man smiled condescendingly. "Do you at least sneak out at night? Meet someone special in town?"  
"Don't have the time for that."  
"Ya know they're betting on when you'll bring a girl home, right? Grandpa even asked if you have a boyfriend!" Crowley heard a dry laugh leave his mouth, but his mind felt like it was on another planet. His cousin looked like he had just said the funniest thing. Crowley felt like he was watching the things surrounding him without really being here. The noises around him stopped for a second and his eyesight went blurry. He made his way upstairs as soon as he could after that. Crowley fell on his bed, threw his clothes on the floor and curled into a ball. He blinked repeatedly, but the tears quickly ran freely.  
Crowley's dishevelled appearance after a night of insomnia was met with cheerful, knowing grins from his family and remarks about excessive drinking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me? Projecting on to these characters? Never.  
Kudos and comments appreciated!


End file.
